The Here’s Johnny show kicked off with nary a Jon, Jack, Tom, Dick or Harry in sight. Instead it was young Sydneysider Guineafowl and his band with the same name. They arrived onstage fashionably late and looked dolled to the nines in a mixture of black and white. They started with the rocking ditty, “Guillotine” and judging by the crowd’s immediate reaction - clapping along to the catchy beat - it’s clear that it’ll only be a matter of time before these guys sell out the venue by themselves.

The audience were an interesting lot with a large number of youngsters out to support local music for this all-ages gig. They had originally kept their distance but Guineafowl soon righted this by declaring the proceedings a “rock show” and saying everyone should “come forward” and “dance a little bit”. The perfect song for this followed in “Little Fingers”, a shiny indietronica track custom-built for fists in the air and much more.

During “In Our Circles” there were a couple of lads down the front with their arms around their mates, so blissfully unaware and carefree as they bopped along. It was such a sweet sight and a perfect reaction to the warm, Shins-like song. Guineafowl was on the money tonight with the stage banter, he really seemed to connect with the audience thanks to his wit and charm.

They rounded out their set with the sixties surf of “My Lonely Arms”, a number bolstered by the sublime vocals of Messer Guinea and keyboardist, Imi Harper. The kids didn’t need much encouragement to clap along to the cheery fun of “Botanist” although the “tricky” clapping proved a little too difficult for some people. No matter, as they would eventually pick up the beat during the set closer. In all it was a short, sharp set of all killer, no filler anthems-in-the-making.

The John Steel Singers were the first pair of Johnnies. (And does anyone else think of Rik Mayall talking about condoms when you see the word Johnny? Nope? Moving on!) The Star Wars theme was the group’s intro music and proved a nice touch (after all, not many professions allow people to enter their job to music as I heard a comedian say all too recently). They were soon off with the cheeky opening line of “Your Favourite Perversion”
“I propose we take our clothes off”. Indeed!

“You’ve Got Nothing To Be Proud Of” followed with big brass solos from Pete Bernoth and Scott Bromiley on trombone and trumpet, respectively, and the guys didn’t waste a minute before launching into “Masochist”. It was nice to see these Johnnies spread out on a big stage, swapping instruments like some fashionistas change clothes. The term multi-multi instrumentalist certainly seems apt in this case.

The band weren’t messing about, these sunny Queenslanders were quick to jump about and soak up every minute of the aural delights they individually offer and hence, create their vast sonic soundscapes. In fact, their main competition in the dance department came courtesy of two different sources. One Douglas S Thompson (AKA Guineafowl’s guitarist) was seen jumping around manically and being giggled at by at least one of his bandmates, and then there were the three hipster wannabe blokes who thought they could dance. At the very least they provided fine spectacles to behold.

Things were slowed down a notch for the opening of “Toes and Fingers” which began life as an eerie lullaby before eventually seguing off. This would form a joyous calypso beat fresh from the sea and sand of a gorgeous blue beach topped off by palm trees stirring in the wind and hula girls sashaying from left to right. There were some added instrumental pieces and an almost aural overload before the fun, “Strawberry Wine”. The hirsute group were shaking their tail feathers and masses of curls to the account about walking in the park with a blonde and going along with the beat of The Velvet Underground’s drum. Nice.

The end may have caught people unawares but a request for the sound guy to make some adjustments elicited some almighty cheers. Singer/guitarist, Tim Morrissey admitted he “Hated to bore audiences with a monitors request” but did seem to enjoy hamming things up, like he’d just discovered the thrill of stand-up comedy.

We were treated to a new song – another one that fitted in with The John Steel Singers’ brand of breezy indie pop before the child’s play of “Overpass”. This is one you could imagine Peter Combe pulling off with great ease, as it would no doubt fit in easily between his “Newspaper Mama” and “Toffee Apples”.

Things picked up for the last two songs of the set – “Evolution” and “Rainbow Kraut” - with the kids dancing along to the energetic tracks and lapping up the fiery trumpet that is the centrepiece of the latter. But how to finish? Well, if you’re Damien Hammond (bass) and Luke McDonald (vocals, keys, guitar) you take a leaf outta Pete Townshend’s book and throw your axe to the side with reckless abandon. All that was missing was to finish off the job proper and make firewood of the lot!

Before Jonathan Boulet and band took to the stage we got to hear the Talking Heads’ song “Psycho Killer,” although it’s fair to say many punters were a tad too young to have heard this one before. And they also wouldn’t have heard JB’s theme tune, “Here’s Johnny” by Hocus Pocus unless it was a remix (which come to think of it, tonight’s version may very well have been!)

Jonathan Boulet and his band of merry men had copious amounts of energy flying about from the get-go. Clearly unperturbed by the three quarters full Factory, they commenced their punchy, percussion-filled, rock music with “321 Ready Or Not”. Boulet’s music seems to couple the heavy guitar sounds synonymous with groups like The Buzzcocks and Status Quo with raw, primal drumming that seems like it was learnt from some far-flung Amazonian tribe (a kinda best-kept secret from civilisation unearthed by a bush shaman).

“Ones Who Fly Twos Who Die” verged on being a kid’s rhyme but thanks to its melodic quality and sheer intensity, could’ve been a hot n’ sweaty number from a pumping Zumba session. After this, Boulet gave a plug for The John Steel Singers saying we should buy merch to give them petrol money and that they keep getting better all the time. Indeed, both artists absolutely nail the calypso beat and layered pop tunes. But while JSS come at the listener from multiple angles with their diverse array of instrumentation, Boulet’s is a more traditional format (guitars, drums/percussion, bass and keys) and what they lack in varied ingredients they make up for in what they manage to achieve, building huge walls of sound every bit as furious as a large army of angry men.

The introduction to “North To South East To You” boasted a Radiohead Kid A-era style, before they diverged off into the sunlit territory of The Drums mixed with African rhythms like say, Malibu meets Madagascar. A new song followed and maintained the pace before “Continue Calling”, a cross between The Strokes’ “Juicebox” and John Butler’s roots-reggae style. It’s funny that while JSS were reminiscent of The Who in their choice of stage theatrics during their finale, it seemed that Boulet and co. were putting the infamous Englishmen on a pedestal for their whole set, particularly in the areas of power, volume and sheer ferocity.

“A Community Service Announcement” saw one guy in the audience dancing around like a Muppet, all flopping arms while others were content to nod and bop along to the “big” single. What would have proved a great finale was demoted to second place when they proceeded with the Vampire-Weekend-on-steroids track, “You’re An Animal”.

Boulet’s bassist displayed some spectacular aerodynamics, leaping off an amp while the others were content to provide their large, swirling guitar licks and rhythms and the kind of instrumental tinkering that’d give Tame Impala a run for their money. Afterwards Boulet the sweetie-pie wished us all a good night and there was no encore. No matter though, as these Johnny lads and their ‘Fowl had been a well-behaved lot who put on a damn fine rock show with enough raw passion and energy that the Factory Theatre might’ve soared off on it’s own course along Sydney’s famed flight path. Well, almost.